


a stolen moment

by kenhinasuga



Series: we touch and it's home [2]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: (mostly the author projecting), Boys In Love, Fluff, Food as a Metaphor for Love, Hand & Finger Kink, M/M, Post-Time Skip, Stolen Moments, bc that's THE osakita tag thanks for coming to my ted talk, but also a supportive bro in his own way, non-consensual photographing, osakita in love and atsumu being a little shit, soft boys in love, the author still doesn't know how to tag send help, wow atsumu you could've asked
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-08
Updated: 2020-10-08
Packaged: 2021-03-07 20:02:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,853
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26903323
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kenhinasuga/pseuds/kenhinasuga
Summary: Osamu and Shinsuke are indulging in a stolen moment and it's stolen from them in return.
Relationships: Kita Shinsuke & Miya Osamu, Kita Shinsuke/Miya Osamu
Series: we touch and it's home [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1963021
Comments: 6
Kudos: 58





	a stolen moment

**Author's Note:**

> will i ever stop writing self-indulgent bs that butters my very specific type of bread? the answer is a hard . No
> 
> (me in dms with zel while writing this: god pls why is writing osakita literally my safe haven and truest comfort????)
> 
> also my hand kink came through in this and i would apologise but kita came to me in a dream and told me i'm valid so who am i to argue with my king and comfort character??? (yes mayhaps i am losing my mind ... i would like to not be perceived at this time)

Osamu cups the rice in his hand, adding the filling before shaping it into a perfect triangle. He can hear the laughter coming from the restaurant and he smiles to himself, hands never stopping their work. It's all muscle memory at this point, but he likes the work, enjoys the way he gets to craft each onigiri with his hands. Even on busy days when he sells out and has to run between the kitchen and counter to make each order on demand, he doesn't get tired of the feeling of rice sticking to his skin. No matter how draining those days are, each perfect triangle gives him such joy, handing it over knowing his hands have crafted someone's meal.

He's almost done when someone joins him in the kitchen. The quiet entrance, footsteps light and even, Osamu doesn't have to look away from his work to know who it is, but he does so anyway. Shinsuke's smile is tired, softness around the edges betraying his fondness for the noisy gathering taking place inside the restaurant. He's carrying several empty bottles of the various alcoholic beverages everyone's been indulging in and passes Osamu to return them to their respective crates in the storage.

Osamu listens to the soft clinking of glass and finishes shaping the rice in his hands. Shinsuke returns from the storage, eyes focusing on the plate of freshly made onigiri. "They look great," he says quietly as he walks past, hand brushing against Osamu's lower back, and stops at his side, not quite close enough for contact. It's so simple, but it always feels like the highest praise coming from him, warmth spreading through Osamu's chest.

A burst of laughter filters into the kitchen and Shinsuke sighs, shaking his head. "They're so _loud_ ," he complains, but it's overflowing with fondness in a way he'd never allow anyone else to hear and Osamu nudges him softly with his elbow. Shinsuke doesn't take the bait, huffing something under his breath that sounds a lot like _You aren't any better_. Osamu laughs softly and continues his work with Shinsuke's steady presence by his side.

They don't talk, but the silence is welcome, their friends' noise flowing and ebbing in the background. Every time Osamu glances at Shinsuke, his eyes are focused on his hands, watching his every motion intently, and he slows down the process just for him. Shinsuke's earnest appreciation of his work and the quiet support he offers feel like needles under his skin, slowly piercing him open to welcome Shinsuke inside. It's not an unpleasant feeling, but it leaves him raw and vulnerable, trusting Shinsuke to stitch him back together.

Osamu finishes the final onigiri and fits it onto the plate with the rest. "All done," he exhales satisfied and Shinsuke hums in agreement. "All done," he echoes with reverence and it's like balm on Osamu's pierced skin. He looks at the onigiri for a moment longer before turning around to get to the sink, movement interrupted by Shinsuke's fingers curling softly around his wrist. Osamu looks at him, part question and part hopeful excitement, and finds him staring at his hands once again.

Shinsuke gently guides his hand to his lips, eyes finally meeting his, and Osamu swallows thickly, nodding once to give permission to the unvoiced suggestion so plain in his gaze. Shinsuke's tongue slides out and picks up a single grain of rice clinging to Osamu's fingers. He chews it slowly, eyes never leaving his, and Osamu feels ready to burst, face warm and chest tight. Shinsuke swallows and looks at him for a moment before going in again, wrapping his lips around Osamu's thumb and gracing his teeth lightly over his skin.

Osamu feels transfixed, unable to do anything but stare and absorb the sensation of Shinsuke's teeth and tongue. Shinsuke's cheeks are slightly flushed, but his eyes are unwavering as he makes his way from finger to finger. It feels like an eternity passes before he's done and Osamu's lips part in a soft gasp, releasing the breath he didn’t realise he’s been holding. Shinsuke kisses his palm and lets go of his wrist, taking a step back and breaking the spell. Their surroundings rush back into Osamu's awareness, kitchen returning into focus and their friends' noise filling his ears again. He inhales deeply and turns to the sink, reaching for the handle and watching the water pour out.

Osamu stares at his hands for a moment, one almost rice-free and one still covered in grains, before holding them under the spray and washing them thoroughly. He turns off the water and dries his hands on a nearby towel, aware of Shinsuke's eyes on him. "That was unfair, you know," he breathes out and looks at him. It's easy to forget they're not alone when Shinsuke's gaze is so heavy, devouring him with that calm intensity, and Osamu's body reacts before his brain can stop him. He cages Shinsuke against the counter, dropping his forehead against his and squeezing his eyes shut. He's breathing heavily from the strain of holding back, nose filling with the note of alcohol on Shinsuke's breath, and he understands. Shinsuke is staying.

Osamu's lips find his without opening his eyes, pressing a soft kiss against his parted mouth, and Shinsuke sighs, breaking the last thread of restraint. Osamu kisses him hungrily, slipping his tongue between his lips and being met in welcome. It's sloppy and rushed like all stolen moments Osamu initiates, but Shinsuke is there to catch him. He slides his hands up Osamu's chest onto the back of his neck and meets his pace with trusted calm, slowing them down as if he's slowing time itself. Sometimes Osamu thinks that's exactly what he does, manipulating time to make a minute seem like eternity.

Shinsuke pulls back first and Osamu chases his lips until he finds them again, trailing soft kisses from his nose across his cheek to the corner of his mouth where he lingers, waiting patiently. Shinsuke shows him mercy, reconnecting their lips and kissing him with such gentle purpose it leaves Osamu breathless. "You win," he concedes and Shinsuke tugs on the hair at his nape. Osamu leans back slightly and opens his eyes, taking in the sight of Shinsuke's kiss-red lips. He cups his cheek with one hand and drags his thumb across his bottom lip. "You always win," he breathes out and Shinsuke's mouth curves into a small smile. "I know," he returns in a whisper and kisses the pad of Osamu's thumb.

The hollow sound of a camera shutter breaks the moment like a hammer against glass and Osamu whirls around to find his brother on the threshold to the kitchen, phone in hand and shit-eating grin on his face. "I think the real winner here is me," Atsumu exclaims with glee, pocketing his phone and leaning against the doorframe. He smirks and Osamu is ready to break his face, hands curling into fists at his sides. He closes the distance between them in a few strides, crowding into Atsumu's space, and grabs the front of his shirt. "Delete it. Right. _Now_." He grits out and Atsumu's smirk only widens. "Make me," he retorts in a sing-song, Osamu’s fingers curling tighter into his shirt.

Atsumu laughs in his face and he's ready to lunge at him, but a hand on his arm stops him. "Let go of your brother," Shinsuke demands calmly, weight of his hand like a warning and anchor all at once, and Osamu forces his fingers to uncurl, slowly releasing Atsumu's shirt. He takes a step back when Shinsuke taps his arm, giving Atsumu just enough space to smooth his hand over his shirt, but not enough to give him an easy escape. "Thank you, Kita-san," Atsumu drips in fake sweetness and Osamu wishes he'd punched him regardless of the consequences. Atsumu smirks at him again before looking at Shinsuke, smirk dropping and expression turning slightly fearful.

"Now..." Shinsuke lets the word linger dangerously in the air and Osamu turns his head slightly to glance at him. _Captain_. All the quiet affection and gentle warmth he's gotten so used to has disappeared, replaced by the still familiar calm of his authority. It's like a collar they've all fastened around their own necks during high school, knowing it's lethal but trusting the steady hand that holds the leash. Shinsuke never pulls, always guiding, but the looming threat of his disappointment can crush lungs all on its own.

Atsumu swallows thickly and pulls out his phone with shaking hands. He taps the screen a couple of times and offers his phone to Shinsuke. "H-here, Kita-san," he stutters out in a small voice and Shinsuke takes the phone. Osamu looks at the screen and catches a glimpse of the photo before Shinsuke presses delete and it disappears. "Thank you," Shinsuke says earnestly and hands back the phone. Atsumu pockets it again and Osamu finally gives him enough space to leave, expecting him to flee, but he doesn't move. Osamu takes in his shaken state and almost asks him if he's okay, swallowing the words when Atsumu looks at him, something unreadable in his gaze.

Shinsuke excuses himself and grabs the plate of onigiri, squeezing Osamu's arm as he walks past. Osamu looks after him until he's out of sight before turning his attention back to Atsumu. Neither of them say anything, waiting for the other to break first, and it slowly feels like they're okay again, a new boundary drawn in the silence. "You looked happy," Atsumu says quietly, sealing the peace. "Are you..." He hesitates and Osamu waits for him to finish. "Happy?" The word sounds so heavy on Atsumu's tongue, but it feels light and secure in Osamu's chest, anchor and wings at the same time. "Yes," he answers honestly and without hesitation, and Atsumu nods. “Good."

The silence returns and Osamu feels the new boundary lock into place. Atsumu will no doubt test it and skirt it for a long while, but it's there and Osamu will adjust it and protect it as he sees fit. "I'm still confident I'll have the happier life," Atsumu remarks without the usual heat, once again breaking the silence first, and Osamu nods with a smile, letting him have the last word. _Bring it on_.

(A week later, Atsumu waltzes into Onigiri Miya with a hideously wrapped present in hand and a speech about Shinsuke's virtue being tainted by Osamu. Osamu just slaps the back of his head and prepares his favourite onigiri for him, asking him about the Jackals' most recent practice match.)

(After Atsumu has left and he's closed the shop for the day, Osamu finally gets around to opening the present, tearing off the wrapping paper and expecting nothing. It's a framed photo of him and Shinsuke, the secret snap he never got to see properly, and Osamu laughs a little shakily at his brother's bold move. _You looked happy_ echoes through his head and he agrees, struck by the radiance of his own happiness captured in a single stolen moment.)

**Author's Note:**

> thank you so much for reading and i hope this self-indulgent bs butters your bread too somehow??? osakita brain rot for life
> 
> comments are always appreciated!!! and thank you again for reading :D


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